Saturday, June 18, 2016

April 990-December 993 YK: In April, 990 YK, Prince Oargev got word that an information broker in Sharn was selling the location of an item of ancient power called the Heart of Flame. It was advertised to be an almost inexhaustible source of arcane might, and the prince was determined to get his hands on it.Oargev, Istav, Martin, Bas'shi, and Tact traveled by lightning rail to Sharn in order to secure the artifact's location. In Sharn, they ran into the Order of the Emerald Claw and an expedition from Thrane, all after the same information. Only the Thrannish and Cyran contingents left the city with the information, both on the lightning rail, headed north, for their destination, Icewhite Island. The Thrannish contingent was most notable due to its commander, a Paladin named Jared Daran. He and Istav got along very well, despite the fact that they were vying for the same ancient artifact. This meeting laid the groundwork for a very close future relationship between Oargev's government and Thrane. In Stormhome, the Thrannish expedition booked passage on one of the fastest sailing vessels in Lyrandar's fleet. Fortunately, Prince Oargev (let's be honest-Istav) secured the use of one of Lyrandar's fledgling airships, the Strikes Twice. This made all the difference in Prince Oargev's success in securing The Heart of Flame, which proved to be every bit as powerful as reported.In one sense, this success spelled doom for Cyre. In a much greater sense, this success saved the world from a free and unrestrained Laz Shathoom, also known as the Lord of Mourning. Had Thrane or Karrnath secured this artifact and used it, they would have released him from his prison. Cyre was able to re-imprison him instantaneously-unfortunately, it cost them their nation.Queen Dannel's Arcane Council went to immediate work drawing up ways to utilize the power in the Heart of Flame. A massive epic spell was developed which would activate a defensive perimeter around the entire nation, preventing invading armies from passing through. In the years following this expedition, Prince Oargev developed something of a shadow government separate from his mother's government. While Oargev continued to publicly work for the Queen, leading troops against the Captain of Corpses, defending Cyran territory in the Battle of the Cauldron, and placing the focii for the defensive ritual, his allies were making diplomatic ties to the Valenar, Thrane, and Breland.World leaders rose and fell. Random poems started popping up in publications around the world by a man called Halmander, the Dragontongue. Prince Oargev and his followers took notice and organized the poems into a series of prophecies describing a year of signs and tragedies that would be inflicted upon Cyre before a great calamity. His shadow government began making preparations to prevent-and then when it became clear that prevention could end the world- minimize the damage to Cyran life and property.The signs began, Prince Oargev and his followers became believers in the end of Cyre. Others read the signs and began reacting in their own ways, hurtling the world towards the Day of Mourning.The poems that predicted the end are included below:1. SignsThese thirteen signs shall break the proudest jewelof Galifar’s mighty, prosp’rous lands:The first shall show both time and death a fool,The second dim the sun with misty bands.Beasts not of this world next month appears,For thirteen days no cock will ever crow,Then rain will fall not water, but as tearsFor never-ending heat that all shall know.Thirteen beasts of every herd shall die.The wash of soured wines shall make a flood.Thirteen days of tears the makers cry,Then the nation’s river runs with blood.When moons go dark and dreams are things men share-Even bold men of the Jewel should beware.2. DecayDeath, you are not death when nothing fades,When power robs you of corrupting grasp.Though our spirits go unto the shadesNot so our bodies after dying rasp.My true love, though she died a decade pastLays just as sweetly on her final bed.Her ruby lips and sparkling eyes will lastEven after all the world is dead.Though poets write of powers in their verseTo save the lives of loves beyond their graves,Not through my words but by its dire curse,My love’s fair skin, forever, Evil saves.Because today until the last tomorrowMy love lies deep within the Land of Sorrow.3. SunlightIn every land the sun rises at breakOf day and brings with it a happy dawn.Except where, due to arrogant mistake,Within that land sunlight’s warm face is gone.For four long months we’ve never seen the sun.We’ve only mists and clouds to clothe our sky.I fear, before this gloomy spring is doneThat every man of heart will wish to die.For sunlight is the food that feeds the soulAnd sunlight makes our loves and hopes to grow-Only in the sun are we made whole.For in the dark our bravery will go.But soon, when sunlight sees this place at last,We’ll wish these mists and clouds had never passed.4. BeastsIn the forests of our mighty landRan deer, flew birds, stalked wolves, and swam the fish.More things exist than e’er we’ll understandAnd if we understood, well might we wishTo unremember things that we have learnedFor there are things no man was meant to know.But things once seen into our minds are burnedAnd force us, our innocence, outgrow.Seek not the secrets locked behind the trees.Seek not to know the things that nature’s hid.For seekers will be brought unto their kneesFor seeking that which nature has forbid.But in these days no nature can be foundWhen forests stand on curséd, mourning ground.5. TimeWho greets the morning with a one-note songAnd rules his land with claw and garments fair?He fathers armored children by the throng;He’s calléd by the name of Chanticleer.He is the herald of the morning sunHe is the cock that starts us on our way.But once our days of sorrow have begunFor one less than two weeks his voice will stay.In morning silence, we won’t know the hourIn mourning silence we’ll regret our loss.This silent herald ushers in the powerThat wipes us from the land like worthless dross.The rooster who sings morning’s light is gone.The rooster who brings mourning’s fright lives on.6. TearsWhat grief could make the heavens freely weepAnd wash the earth in sorrow’s salty wine?The griefs that into nations, peaceful, creepAnd threaten peace and lives, both yours and mine.We’ve built a court to house the Lord of Mourning.We’ve brought him home to feed him from our fears.We’ve disregarded every single warningAnd soon he’ll slake his thirst upon our tears.For one less than two weeks these tears will fall:Arawai mourning that which mortals do.But when these tears have fallen one and all,The hazy, sunless mists will then be through.The One Who First Brought Weeping to this WorldBrings weeping to our land: his flag unfurled.7. HeatUntil the final sorrow claims our lives,When winter’s cold embrace should grasp our hands,We’ll find the chill of winter ne’r arrives:Only the sun to blast our fields to sands.Our lips are parched and rivers nearly driedFrom long-lost sun’s miraculous return,For all the prayers for sun’s return we sighedHave only served to make us sweat and burn.We thrive on warmth, deny the chill of death,But death can come as surely when it’s hot.When suffocating fires claim your breath,I’ll thank the Crying Lord your flesh can’t rot.The fires from far north that bring despairWere brought here from the cold by our brave heir.8. FeastingA dozen taken from us for our sinsAnd one more taken from us for our fear:A time of tears and weeping soon beginsIn a nation that won’t see another year.When we feast sorrow, set with fresh-cut steakAt thirteen places, mourners all to sit,We celebrate the day our jewel will breakAnd welcome he whose fate to ours is knit.Though death will come to all in mortal timeTo some it comes too soon, a rapid fate.The time we’ve left, in revelry sublimeWe’ll meet our death and always celebrateThe lives we lead ‘fore power’s grasping fistKnit us shrouds of death in dead, grey mist. 9. CelebrationA dozen taken from us for our joysAnd one more taken from us for our pride:These are the tools the Crying Lord employsTo move into our land and there abide.When we feast sorrow, set with soured wineAt thirteen places, mourners all to drink,We spoil the meal, forever to malignThe day in sorrow’s pit we start to sink.Though grief commands us all to drink its healthThe vintage it provides will never sateOur thirst, no matter how much of our wealthWe spend to try and fight to stop our fate.The vines of grief are ripe--so take your cupOf tears and vinegar and grief--drink up!10. IndustryThe People of the Gorgon always craftCunning things of steel and wood and flame.Accordingly, their city’s shops are staffedWith cunning people who all do the same.The truest steel will never, ever weepIn hottest forge or in the cool of snow;As finest woods, relied upon to keepTheir spring when used to make a mighty bow. The only flame they know is forge’s light;No fire ever burns within their breast.But passions in their hearts will soon alightWhen Sorrow’s Maker makes a mighty test:Will workers keep their crafts within their keepingWhen one less than two weeks all eyes are weeping?11. WaterThrough our veins blood flows providing lifeTo every mind and heart and leg and limb,But when blood leaves our flesh it causes strifeAnd causes life, so sweet, so short, to dim.And so the waters flow, bring life untoThe land that calls the flowing waters home.And so, in times when rains are overdueThat we miss river’s life-sustaining loam.The day that river runs with life-red bloodFor thirteen hours of fear and sorrow dire,It signals death for child and planted budAs surely as does plague or burning fire.In three month’s time, no river, mortal man,Or blood will flow, will walk where now they can.12. MoonsAbove our heads the windows to the planesLook down and teach us things we’ve not been shown..Amidst this nation’s trials and campaigns,They offer comfort that we are not alone.When we look to Siberys above,Lighting up the clear and darkling sky,We see the source of flame, and war, and love,A home for beasts, for dreams, and those who die.Even when all allies leave our sideAnd enemies surround on every shore,Above is where our allies all resideAnd with their guidance we’ll win every war.The night they turn their faces from our landWill mark the night our end is close at hand.13. DreamsThe Crying Lord, long sealed in fire and iceCan only visit men in thoughts and dreams.Once he’s freed, a nation is the priceTo buy the world and silence dying screams.The sacrifices know their lives are due-The One who Drinks All Tears will tell them so.But soon their dreaming horrors will be through.It is the ones who live who’ll have to goOut to a world that’s left them all behind,To find a way to live their lives againWhile haunted by the dreams that once malignedThe strongest of belovéd countrymen.The one who chose his nation for this fateWill fight the Dreaming Grief and be made great.14. MourningOh Jewel of Galifar, please tell me whyThe bitter tears are streaming down your face.Your victory is won, though now you cry-You took the curse in all of Khorvaire’s place.Though only monsters, metal men, and foolsWalk on your roads or tread your hallowed halls,You’ve bought the world the time to find the toolsTo kill the Lord of Mourning and his thralls.In any other realm he’d be set free-Only your blood will fight him to the end.The world can’t know how great your heroes be,But all who know will call your nation friend.Today we consecrate you to the ground-Tomorrow, be reborn, once hope is found.

Monday, June 13, 2016

So, we finished our campaign. I have had a few requests for a record of the game and I will likely also put some ideas I have had for re-vamping 4ed moving forward. This is part 1. I'm writing it from an in-game perspective.

January 988 YK-March 990

On Prince Oargev’s 18th birthday, he entered into public life. He received two significant birthday gifts from his mother, Queen Dannel of Cyre. The first was a troop of warforged freshly minted in Cannith’s creation forges, led by two warforged heroes-a silent, broken warrior called Tact, and his brother, a charismatic commander called Blade. Blade served as the troop’s leader under Oargev’s command and Tact served as Oargev’s personal bodyguard. The second gift given by the Queen was Prince Oargev’s first mission- a diplomatic progress to a handful of nobles in Cyre’s northeast who had been less than enthusiastic about Queen Dannel’s reign. Along the way, the Prince and his companions were to inspect a secret House Vadalis installation at Clifftop and make some decisions on the progress of certain projects Vadalis had been working on for Cyre.

At this point, I should identify the companions that travelled with the young Prince at this juncture. First and foremost was his cousin, Lord Istav ir’Somme, recently returned from school in Aundair. He was sent to serve as Istav’s diplomatic advisor-of course, he had great success in that role. Secondly, Oargev’s childhood friend and companion, Martin ir’Dallis, whose family was dispossessed of lands by the Valenar, accompanied the Prince out of loyalty and service. These three friends served as the core of Oargev’s rise to power and inner councils until the end of Oargev’s reign.

During this progress, Oargev and his companions fell into the middle of a plot by the Ashbound Druids to destroy the secret House Vadalis installation, discovered an invasion in progress by Karrnath, and uncovered the first in a long line of prophecies that later proved that Oargev ir’Wynarn was the champion of prophecy for his age. Many lines of the prophecy were unreadable at this point, but were later reconstructed.

The Lord of Mourning

The blood of one removed from royal, shedShall bring unto the world a realm of nightAnd fill the heart of every man with dreadOf spreading pestilence and growing blight.For when this sorrow of a nation fallsAnd sorrow soon becomes that nation's name,The dead will only walk the castle's hallsAnd sit the thrones of those who are to blame.But all is never lost in darkest gloom:The life of one removed from royal spentCan save the guilty parties from their doom,Though all the land they darkened still be rent.This I say is how the Lord of MourningShall rise again. Take heart and heed my warning!

References to the coming tragedy of the Mournland abound in this poem, though at this point, we didn’t see them clearly.

Over the course of the following year, Prince Oargev wins the love of Brelish noblewoman Elyse ir’Kristain and preparations for their wedding commence. He is also involved in military action along the Karranthi-Cyran border. Most Notably, the Prince leads a rescue attempt to save a key Cryan military commander, losing almost all of his men in the process-but they escape with their lives, inspiring songs and heroes of Cyre. Istav serves as a mediator for the impending split between the Eldeen Reaches and Aundair. Relationships with the Valenar Elves, Goblins of Darguun, and Breland become strained and complicated during this time. A Valenar warrior, Bas’shi Bosti, becomes impressed with Prince Oargev’s valor and joins his band of advisors for a time, aiding him in his military campaign against the Karrnathi.

After the Prince’s wedding, he and his advisors are given another major task that will change the course of the world...